


evermore

by dwyndling



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of PTSD, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), this is......so sappy omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwyndling/pseuds/dwyndling
Summary: In this world, it is likely nightmares will always exist so long as humans continue to dream. Thankfully, the same could be said of tea leaves.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 24
Kudos: 144





	evermore

It is normal for this to happen.

_A soft noise, barely more than a whisper._

Tifa’s eyes fly open, jolting awake without ceremony. It takes a moment for the world to settle into its rightful place, but she surges up on instinct, already casting about with her limited awareness to find the cause of the disturbance. 

It is, as it usually is, just to her right. Twisting, and trying not to shake the bed unnecessarily as she does so, Tifa leans over to that side.

_So tonight is one of those nights, is it._

Cloud’s face is pinched, a deep furrow between his brows and lips parted helplessly, trembling slightly. It’s clear he’s still trapped in the depths of slumber, but whatever monsters are hiding in the hollowed out corners of his mind certainly have the easiest access to him there. 

It’s unbearably common for him to have night terrors, dreams that leave him shaking and dripping with sweat as he jolts awake, even as his bleary eyes seek out Tifa on instinct. This is far from the first time his slurred whispers and trembling have woken her far into the night. 

With a slow exhale, Tifa allows the pounding of her heart to subside. Business as usual then. It’s a tricky business, waking up someone with SOLDIER strength and the reflexes to match, but it’s not impossible. Albeit, the difficulty is certainly increased by Cloud being in the throes of a nightmare, but that simply lends urgency to the process.

Extricating herself from the slightly too-warm blankets, Tifa steps away from the bed, and out of direct reach of Cloud’s arms and legs. Unpleasant experience had taught them both that if Cloud woke up to the blurry sight of someone leaning over him, he was liable to go straight for their windpipe without a moment’s thought. 

“Cloud.” It’s a balancing act to try to make her voice loud enough to rouse him without waking the children across the hall. “Cloud, it’s time to wake up.” 

The man in question makes a faint sound, not unlike the whine of an injured dog, and Tifa’s heart clenches in response. _“Cloud.”_ She allows her voice to grow slightly louder, and hopes that Denzel and Marlene are sleeping particularly soundly tonight. “Cloud, _wake up.”_

With another noise, either of pain or irritation, Cloud’s face scrunches up in response. He makes a sound, and Tifa guesses it was probably meant to be her name, even if it comes out sounding a lot more like ‘mnghhffuh’.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Gingerly, Tifa steps closer, still not close enough that she can’t dart out of reach if need be. “How are you?” The whispers are gentle, in the same tone she uses for comforting the children. 

With another garbled sound, one of Cloud’s mako-bright eyes cracks open. “Tiffngh.” He manages, and his voice sounds so painfully rough that Tifa barely manages to hide a wince. 

“Hi there.” Emboldened, she steps closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Sorry to wake you…”

Cloud’s other eye joins the first in wakefulness, and the mako glows a dull emerald in the darkness of their bedroom. “...mmngh.” He blinks, slow and languid. “...time?”

He’s looking more aware by the second, which puts the faint ice in Tifa’s veins at relative ease. She spares a glance for the alarm clock, which is on her side of the bed. “Half past three.” 

Even in the darkness, it’s difficult to miss the expression of dismay that sits naturally on Cloud’s features. “Oh.” He shifts under the blankets slightly, and Tifa obligingly scooches back a little so he can sit up. “...sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” It’s a perfunctory exchanging of sentiments, since they both know Cloud will continue to blame himself for disturbing her sleep, and Tifa will continue to not hold it against him. “Would you like some water? Tea? Honey and milk?”

She can almost _hear_ the embarrassment coloring his cheekbones pale pink. “No. It’s fine.” His voice is still rough with sleep, complete with the note of self-flagellation. 

“I see.” Tifa stands, smoothing down the fabric of her pajama shirt. “Well, _I’m_ going to go down and have a mug of tea, and you’re very welcome to join me.” She leans down, and ever so gently smooths Cloud’s sleep mussed hair out of his face. “In fact, I’d be very grateful if you did.” 

It’s heart wrenching how easily Cloud will agree to something once he’s doing it for anyone other than himself. “...’kay.”

She waits patiently as he untangles his limbs from the blankets, swinging his legs over the side and letting out a slightly ragged exhale. His shoulders are bowed with the weight of something unseen.

Asking will get her nowhere, so Tifa simply turns away. She finds her dressing gown hanging on the closet door, and slips it on over her t-shirt and shorts. It’s fairly chilly in Edge this time of year, and the internal heating systems that have been set up for commercial and residential buildings are nowhere near what they used to be...above the old plate at least. It’s honestly a definitive step up from the Sector 7 slums. 

Without looking back, Tifa slips out the door and softly begins the descent of the stairs, attempting not to make any unnecessary noise. Behind her, Cloud’s footsteps are soft and faint, trailing along behind her with a barely audible weariness. 

She doesn’t look back, allowing Cloud a moment to pull himself together without any eyes on him. Sometimes it takes but a moment, other times it takes several hours before he musters any attempt at socializing. It’s a little bit like watching someone walk on a high wire, waiting on the other side with a hand outstretched, unable to do anything but wait and pray and hope that someday...someday…

_Someday, one foot in front of the other will be enough. Someday, Cloud might be able to sleep through the night every single night of the week, and maybe his smiles won’t be so softly bitter._

Tifa can’t help a softly bitter smile of her own as she begins to heat the water for the tea. Maybe it’s a fool’s hope, to dream that Cloud will ever be fully free of the shadow that hangs over him. Maybe she’s naïve for believing that one day, one glorious day, he will smile, and it will be all the untethered light of a sun. 

_One day, with or without us, I pray that you’ll find an all consuming happiness._

Cloud yawns softly as he seats himself at the bar, eyes half lidded and expression impassive. There’s no hint of the tenseness that had enveloped him when she woke him up, but Cloud is a verified expert at hiding those things away under a blasé expression. His hands are clasped together on the counter, and from where she’s looking at him in the reflection of a glass, it’s hard to gauge how tightly his hands are gripped. 

It’s...always difficult to know what to say in these situations. Push him for too many details and he’ll run, leaving the horrible ache in Tifa’s gut that in one fell swoop she’s undone the progress they’ve managed to build up. But not saying anything almost seems worse, to sweep away Cloud’s pain like it could be safely ignored.

 _He would probably agree with that statement._ It’s a rueful feeling, vaguely acidic to the taste.

As the water boils, she reaches for two mugs from inside the cupboard, along with the tea itself. The little sachets of green tea are her treasure, a gift from Yuffie, but this is certainly a worthy occasion to bring them out. They don’t taste like the earl grey she remembers from her childhood, or even the deep black tea that Marle used to make her when she was a teenager. It’s something new, calm and meditative, and something she’s come to associate with this new era of tentative peace.

When she finally turns to offer Cloud a steaming cup, he looks noticeably more aware. The tension around his eyes has receded, and the corners of his mouth look marginally less downturned. 

All in all by Cloud’s standards, he looks _relaxed._

It brings a smile to Tifa’s face. Maybe she can’t reach inside Cloud’s mind like she did before, but that doesn’t mean she can’t face off with his demons from the outside. To offer him a moment of reprieve, some quiet sanctuary from whatever darkness still lurks inside him...if that’s all she can do, then it will have to be enough.

“Feeling any better?” Circling around the bar, she comes to sit next to him. Not close enough to stifle, but close enough to reach out. Her mug of tea is a calming warmth between her palms.

“Mm.” Cloud says nothing for a long moment, blowing tentatively at the steam. “M’fine.” It’s exactly what he would say regardless if it was true or not, but one look at the relaxed line of his shoulders and Tifa actually believes him for once.

The warmth at her fingertips spreads all the way to her chest, and for a moment the fuzzy feeling drowns out the anxiety. “I’m glad.” She takes her first sip of the tea, and it’s slightly too hot against the roof of her mouth, but the warmth travels all the way down to her toes.

Sometimes, caring for Cloud after one of his nightmares is an exhausting procedure, involving nothing but time and acute patience as he slowly pulls himself back together. Sometimes he lets her hold him, and the sensation of his shoulders shaking with dry and silent sobs is not one that’s easy to forget. 

Sometimes, it’s like she can see him visibly cracking inside, looking in through the window of his bright eyes.

It was why they’d started sleeping next to each other in the first place, so often had Tifa been startled awake by either a slight sound or some heightened sixth sense, a gut instinct whispering to _Cloud, protect, Cloud, protect Cloud._ After awhile, falling back to sleep cradled in each other’s arms became such a habit it just made more sense to occupy the same bed to begin with.

The children don’t think anything of it, and neither she nor Cloud have felt it relevant information to anyone else. If the rest of Avalanche knew, it would jumpstart the teasing to a fever pitch, and though Tifa hardly minds it, that kind of attention would probably be the last thing in the world Cloud wants to deal with.

Besides. It’s not like they’re a _real_ couple.

Tifa takes a slightly too large sip of tea to chase away the thoughts that rise up in harmony along with that one, and burns her tongue in the process.

What they have now is precious. Far too precious, for her to allow any of her other feelings to jeopardize it. If all Cloud wants from her is to be a friend, a shoulder to lean on and an ear to whisper secrets into, that’s fine. It’s an honor that he’d even allow her this close.

And no matter how much she might wish their relationship was...more akin to something _else,_ that wish will never be worth more than Cloud’s comfort. Reclusive, reserved Cloud, who has never so much as whispered a plea for something he felt he didn’t deserve, of which there are many many things. It’s more than enough of an honor to simply hold him together as he heals, when he even allows that.

Fragmented and fractured Cloud, who she loves more than anything else.

“It’s good.”

Tifa blinks, and adjusts her gaze to where Cloud is contemplating his mug. “Yuffie will be glad to hear that. She sent me a variety box last month, so we have several different teas to choose from.” A huff of quiet laughter escapes her. “Maybe we could start having afternoon tea. The kids would probably love it.”

Cloud’s smile is small, as most of Cloud’s smiles are, but no less warm. “Sounds fun. What time should I be there?”

Her breath catches in her throat. It’s...rare for him to agree so easily to the idea of any kind of social event. “Hmm...maybe around three? Denzel should have done his homework by then, and the bar won’t be open for another two hours.” Something in her chest flutters lightly at the soft smile still lingering on Cloud’s features. “It’ll be nice...just the four of us.”

“I’ll be there.” Cloud lifts the cup to his lips, and unconsciously, Tifa’s eyes track the bobbing of his throat as he swallows.

Turning away, she smiles into the mug. “I know you’ve been making an extra effort for us lately after the whole...ordeal. I just...want you to know it doesn’t go unappreciated.” Gingerly she places the cup back down, looking into the tiny dregs of the leaves swirling at the bottom. “I know it’s not easy for you.”

“I guess...thinking about what my hero would do makes it a lot easier.” Cloud’s voice is quiet, but there’s a smile threaded between each word.

“Your hero?” A brow arches upwards. “And who’s that?”

_I can’t imagine who there is to look up to who’s more heroic than you are._

Cloud’s hero...it had been Sephiroth once long ago, and then Zack, and Tifa honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it still was. He’d been the epitome of a hero, charming, handsome, strong...and utterly selfless. If Cloud was still trying to live up to the ideals Zack had represented to him...well, the results are certainly noticeable. 

With a faint huff of amusement, Cloud looks up. “It’s you, Tifa.”

_...huh?_

Her incredulity must show on her face, because something indeterminate flickers in Cloud’s eyes, making the small smile fade away. “Why wouldn’t it be?” His gaze slips back to the side, lowering back down to his tea. “Tifa, you’re…”

She swallows hard, around the sudden lump in her through. 

“You’re everything.” 

It’s a little hard to breathe for some reason. 

Cloud barrels on, seemingly before he can decide against it. “You take care of everyone here, you can manage a business while still having time to take care of everyone else’s problems, you even kept looking out for me when I...gods, Tifa-” He cuts himself off, looking down to where his hands are folded around the mug. “...you’re still everything I could never hope to be.” 

“Cloud…” She shifts where she’s sitting on the stool to face him. It’s been...a certain length of time since they’ve had a conversation like _this._ Cloud communicates in monosyllables on a good day.

“You...really think all those things?”

It might be the dim lightning, or even just her imagination, but Cloud’s cheekbones seem to go slightly pink. “I mean. Yes?” His voice is still a little rough with sleep, but the way it pitches upwards makes the phrase turn into a question.

“It...it’s not heroic, what I do.” Gingerly she reaches out, and lightly places a hand on Cloud’s bare wrist. 

He doesn’t flinch, but his eyes dart up to hers, wide and seeking. “It’s just...something that needs to be done. I look after Marlene and Denzel because they need someone to look after them, and I care enough to try to do it right. I run the bar because it’s what I know how to do, and people need a place to destress.

“And…” A quick inhale, just enough to steady her nerves. “I look out for you because...I love you. That’s all.” In an attempt to diffuse the gravity of the words, she offers him a lopsided smile. Cloud can interpret it however he likes. 

It’s not like it’s a _secret._

Cloud’s face hasn’t altered in expression at all, not since she initially reached out her hand. He looks like a chocobo in the headlights, some mixture of alarm and intrigue.

It would almost be funny, if she weren’t the cause of it.

The silence between them stretches on for enough moments that Tifa pulls her hand back in embarrassment. Was it too much? Was it not what he wanted to hear? Cloud does have a certain fear of commitment...anyone can see it from a mile off. Did she come on too strong? Gods, he’s going to be packed and away on Fenrir by the time she wakes up, spiralling away beyond the wastelands to-

“Tifa.” Before her thoughts can unravel any further, there’s a light touch to her hand, and the clink of Cloud setting his cup down on the countertop. “Stop overthinking.”

He’s as blunt as ever, but the fact that he can tell what she’s thinking just by the look on her face speaks volumes. 

“I…” Cloud stops, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “I’ve...never really known how to talk about...these things.” 

His hand is still lingering on hers, and in a breath of bravery, Tifa takes it within both of her own. The skin is slightly warm, probably from holding onto the mug. “...it’s okay, Cloud.” The smile that rises up is small, and it’s difficult to imagine that Cloud doesn’t see the glassy hue to her eyes. “You don’t need to say anything. I know you don’t exactly…”

“Tifa.” Cloud’s fingers curl around her own, and the feeling steals away whatever half-formed words she could possibly muster. “I want to.”

The mako burn in his eyes seems to grow even brighter in his sincerity, and all Tifa can do is stare into them in shock. The green nudges at her memory, lifting up fuzzy recollections of the swirling emerald and jade that had made up the inner shapes of Cloud’s psyche. 

“You want…” It takes a moment for her to draw herself back to reality. Back to the present. “Want to do what, Cloud?” His hand between hers is still warm, a grounding point.

_I had never felt so close to you as I did then, in the Lifestream. I had never felt so…_

Cloud swallows hard, throat bobbing. The sound is loud in the empty bar. 

“I’ve...wanted to bring it up for a little while now.” He’s not looking at her, eyes drawn downwards to where their hands are clasped together. “But I never figured out how.” Cloud sighs, and the slight slump to his shoulders makes something deep in Tifa’s ribcage ache. “I know it’s unfair to you...but I just…”

No matter what she does, no amount of willpower can remove her heart from where it’s pounding in her throat. Tifa shoves aside jubilant, wonderful, perilous hope, and leans in to better see Cloud’s expression. “And what is it exactly that’s so unfair to me?”

_He can’t possibly be talking about...no. He wouldn’t._

Cloud worries his bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly completely unaware as to how the action catches Tifa’s gaze and holds it there. “That I...that we…” He exhales, short and abrupt. “Tifa, you deserve someone who’s the best there is. Someone strong who can...really support you. Not someone like...me.” 

“Someone like you?” Tifa tilts her head to the side. “Cloud, what is it that you’re talking about? You’ve been nothing but the most loyal friend I could ever ask for, and I-”

He looks up at her, the blue and the mako blending together into a maelstrom. It’s such a horribly _Cloud_ expression that Tifa momentarily loses track of her thoughts.

“That’s just it.” If her heart is still lodged in her throat, then Cloud’s seems to be about two seconds from bleeding out of his eyes. He looks like one of the frightened puppies that Denzel brings back to the bar from time to time, eyes wide and horribly skittish. “That...I’m your friend, but I haven’t exactly been a very good one.” 

“Cloud, I...”

Something shutters in his expression, and Cloud’s gaze falls away, back down to their hands. “I think you know I’ve wanted to be more than that for a long time. Ever since we were kids.” The words come out a little more forceful when he’s not looking her in the face. 

_More. More than that. Ever since we were-_

“And you...didn’t want to tell me?” Something is definitely bubbling over in her chest, some concoction of unsurety, mingled oddly with satisfaction. 

_He...he’s admitting to having a crush on me?_

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.” Cloud’s tone is carefully bland, and with his eyes hidden behind his bangs it’s a little harder to gauge what he’s thinking. “You’ve always had so much going on, and I didn’t want to hold you back or anything, so I-”

“Cloud.”

He flinches, ever so slightly, but it’s still enough to make Tifa’s stomach coil, regret tasting acidic in her throat. It’s all she can do to choose her next words carefully. 

“Ever since I saw you at the train station in Sector 7, I’ve cared about you more than I know how to express.” A tremor runs through Cloud’s hands, and Tifa doubts she would’ve felt it if she wasn’t holding onto him so tightly. “It was...the first time I had seen anyone from Nibelheim in years, much less someone I grew up with.”

It’s the first time she’s told of this to anyone. Somehow the words just keep pouring out from there.

“I was frightened, by how lost you seemed. It was nearly enough to throw me into a panic when you said a different year then I remembered. I knew I couldn’t let you go...not when you were so obviously unwell.”

‘Unwell’ is a little bit of an understatement for how Cloud was doing at that time, in Tifa’s private opinion. Cloud says nothing either way, only continuing to stare at her, the mako in his eyes blazing bright.

“And then everything happened and I just...I realized how much I treasured you. How much it meant to see a familiar face on the train platform that day, and how much it had affected me.” The past and the present had melded together that day, even as the future had been a great and terrible unknown. “I...didn’t feel so alone anymore.”

There’s really...no point to keep it hidden, is there. Not when they’ve already been together through so much. Tifa inhales, and presses the warm glow of the moment into her memory. If all else fails, the recollection of Cloud’s hands, warm and _real_ within her own, will remain. 

“Cloud Strife.” The use of his full name causes another tiny flinch to run through him, but Cloud doesn’t even blink. If his eyes were any wider, they’d be dinner plates. 

Tifa smiles, and the misty memories of childhood weave throughout the memories of the last two years, now irrevocably intertwined. The Cloud she knew as a child is gone, but so is the Tifa that Cloud once knew. The past can never be retrieved or reworked.

But that’s okay. Because Cloud Strife exists, and he is here, directly before her, looking at her like she holds his very existence within her hands. 

“I love you.” And the feeling in her ribcage becomes so overwhelming that her smile widens on it’s own. “I said it before, and I can say it again if you like. I’m happy to be whatever you want me to be, Cloud. You’re utterly irreplaceable to me.”

It happens occasionally, that Cloud will forget his own strength, and accidentally break a metal chair in two, or one memorable incident when he tried to open Seventh Heaven’s locked backdoor and instead lifted it right off its hinges. It’s most likely something he will carry through his whole life, a circumstance unique to him that others will mistakenly envy him for.

As for right now, his hands have achieved such a crushing grip on Tifa’s that her fingers feel completely bloodless. “Cloud-” All it takes is her slight gasp and an attempted wiggle of her hands that his hold on her falls away, as if burned.

His gaze remains, and the mako glow intensifies from the liquid swimming in his eyes. “I...Tifa…” 

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” The reassurances bubble up in her chest, rippling outwards in hopes of taking the strained expression off of his features. “Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. We don’t need to-”

“Tifa.” 

There’s something in his tone that makes her stutter to a halt, meeting the mako-bright gaze head on. “...yes?”

“Is it alright if I…” His voice trails off into a whisper. A moment of silence passes, and then Cloud clears his throat and tries again. “Tifa, is it alright if I…” Words fail him once again, and his hands clench into fists where they’re lying in his lap. His eyes fall away, dropping down to stare at the floor.

When he gets like this, it’s usually better to let him take his time. Tifa presses her hands together, and waits.

It takes a lot less time than she expects. Cloud lifts his chin, with the same indignant spark in his eyes that makes Cloud so very Cloud. “Tifa, is it alright if I kiss you?” His voice is barely more than a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout in the silence around them. 

For some reason, the only thought running through Tifa’s mind is that Cloud, with his SOLDIER enhanced hearing, must be able to hear the thudding in her ribcage so very acutely. 

There is no decision to make. Or rather, the decision was made some time ago.

_I’m yours, Cloud Strife. That will never change._

Tifa smiles, and for a single moment, that feeling of indescribable intimacy returns. “You can kiss me whenever you’d like, Cloud.”

He does.

  
  



End file.
